


Tonight, Tonight

by orphan_account



Series: Tonight, Tonight [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: M/M, odd pairings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-07-29
Updated: 2012-07-29
Packaged: 2017-11-10 23:36:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,514
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/471988
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's Scorpius Malfoy's sixteenth birthday and the entire school is on lock-down while a blizzard rages outside. To alleviate the students' boredom, Hogwarts holds an activities night wherein two students from different houses are required to ask each other a variety of questions—the House with the most honest answers given overall, wins. Scorpius is disgruntled when he finds himself paired with the insufferable Louis Weasley, though he ends ups learning more about himself—and Louis—than he ever thought possible.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Tonight, Tonight

**Author's Note:**

> I realized I wanted Louis/Scorpius and thus proceeded to comb through the archive, confident I'd find something. I didn't, and so here we are.
> 
> Since Louis's exact age is unknown (though the general consensus puts him at around thirteen at the time of the DH epilogue) I've made Scorpius and Louis the same age.
> 
> Also, the rune referred to in the story is the Dagaz rune, which is said to denote "absolute balance between opposites and of paradox."

The evening of Scorpius's sixteenth birthday saw the sun set upon a white and barren winterscape.

It was late November and the castle had found itself in the midst of a blizzard. When Scorpius had glanced out the library window that afternoon he had seen nothing but swirling snow. There seemed no end to the storm in sight. The last blizzard Scorpius remembered had gone on for almost twelve days, back in his first year. He shuddered to imagine how long the weather might have them under siege this time round.

The atmosphere inside the castle was gloomy. The students were forbidden from going outside until the weather cleared, and there'd been no post in four days—Scorpius suspected the owls had either perished in the harsh weather or simply gotten fed up and flown somewhere it was warm. He didn't blame them if that was the case, but whatever the reason their absence was doubly irritating as far as he was concerned: Birthdays were only good for one thing, and that was presents. Without them, today had been as tedious as any other.

The dungeons were dark and damp and miserable as he made his way from the common-room up to the heart of the school for dinner. His hands and feet were blocks of ice by the time he took his seat at the Slytherin table, and he didn't begin to thaw until well after his third cup of steaming hot tea. After five years in the Slytherin dungeons he was used to being cold, but apparently the same could not be said for the rest of the school, who collectively shivered in their warmest clothes, teeth chattering, hoods drawn over their heads, all of them huddled together like penguins.

Albus Potter, who was sitting practically on top of his cousin Rose, looked on the verge of tears during the evening announcements. His skin was white rather than its usual sun-browned, and Scorpius could see him trembling with cold, even from here. He caught the green-eyed boy's gaze and threw him a sneering look, receiving a rather wide-eyed and confused one in return.

Scorpius didn't dislike Albus—he didn't exactly like him, either—but he thought the entire situation served Albus right for being so falsely nice and chirpy these past five years, even as he sat so privileged and smug perched up in Gryffindor Tower with his crowd of adoring sycophants. Scorpius was quite sure it was nice and warm up there rather than dank and freezing like it was down in the dungeons, where not even the fires seemed to make much of difference to the temperature, so it was all a fair bit of karma in Scorpius's opinion.

The last Professor to make an announcement was Professor Cepheus, the new Astronomy teacher. She was small but loud and forthright, so when she took to the stage and called for quiet, the majority of the student body acquiesced, even Scorpius.

"As I'm sure you're all aware, these past few days haven't been very much fun for any of us," she said, with a sympathetic look over at the students huddled in front of her. There was a low murmuring of agreement. "So," she went on with a smile, clasping her hands in front of her, "I thought it might be fun if we had a little activities night to take our minds off things!"

The Gryffindors and Hufflepuffs perked up, ever enthusiastic; the Ravenclaws seemed rightly disinterested; while there was a collective groan from the Slytherin table.

"Now!" she called loudly. "If you'll all listen carefully I'll explain what we'll be doing this evening, and yes," she added, looking down her blue-rimmed spectacles at the Slytherin table, "Activities Night  _will_  be compulsory, thank you."

Scorpius rolled his eyes but sat forward and paid attention to Cepheus, despite the fact he wanted no part in this ridiculousness, particularly not on his birthday. It was bound to be dreadful. Anything compulsory usually was.

Quickly, Cepheus beckoned the Head Boy forward and handed him a large stack of parchments; he proceeded to distribute them to the prefects of each House.

As he did so, she cleared her throat and continued: "In keeping with Hogwarts' attitude regarding inter-house unity, you will each be paired with a student from your own year group, a student who also happens to be a member of a different House. You will each be given a list of questions, which you will be required to ask each other. Points will be earned for each honest answer given and will be tallied remotely, on this piece of parchment." She waved her clipboard in the air. "At the end of the activity, the House with the most honest answers overall shall win fifty House points. You will have one hour. Each pair may remain in the hall or go elsewhere in the castle—but please, do take care not to slip out of bounds unless you wish to incur severe penalty."

Scorpius snorted to himself. Slytherin House's disadvantage regarding this little activity was immediately apparent to him—out of the four Hogwarts Houses they were least likely to be honest. The Gryffindors, with their big bleeding hearts, were the obvious frontrunners. If he was to place a bet, his money would be on them.

"I will now cast a charm over all of you, assigning each of you an individual rune, which in a moment you'll be able to see on the back of your hand. The person assigned the same rune as you shall be your partner this evening." She flicked her wand, and Scorpius felt a slight tickling sensation on the palm of his left hand. He raised it out in front of him and saw that a black rune had appeared on his skin. He swiped his finger over it and frowned when it didn't smudge.

The rune itself was odd-looking—two triangles meeting at their points—and he was sure he'd never seen it before. He looked up and saw that most everyone else was also studying their palms.

"First-year students, please rise and find your partners!" There was much laughter and squealing as the First-years, Second-years, Third, Fourth and Fifth-years paired off with one another and left the hall. Scorpius sat with his cheek rested in his palm, cold and utterly exhausted, as he waited his turn.

"Sixth-year students, if you please!"

Rolling his eyes, Scorpius reluctantly climbed out of his seat and trudged to the center of the hall, where the rest of the Sixth-years had formed an excited little huddle. The majority of the younger students had scattered now, leaving only the Sixth and Seventh-year students behind, and for this at least Scorpius was grateful.

He snatched a parchment from one of the prefects before raising his palm again and squinting at his ugly little rune. Letting out an impatient groan, he dropped his hand and said loudly, "Alright, so which one of you has got the rune that looks like two triangles meeting at their points?"

"I do."

Scorpius cringed before he turned around. He knew that voice, and the moment he heard it he was  _positive_  the rest of his night was going to be absolutely horrid.

Louis Weasley.

Forcing the bitter look off of his face, Scorpius slowly turned around to find the Ravenclaw boy standing a few feet behind him, blue eyes the color of forget-me-nots fixed on his palm, which was held out in front of his face.

"Yes," the boy muttered to himself, brow furrowed, "it looks like two triangles to me..."

"Show me," Scorpius demanded, striding forward and forcibly taking Louis's wrist. He turned the boy's wrist around, saw that their runes matched, and dropped Louis's hand as quickly as he could.

"We're the same," he grumbled as Louis stared blankly at him. He could barely conceal his own disappointment. "Well come on, then, let's get out of here. It's too crowded."

* * *

"I know where we can go. Someplace warm. Just follow me."

Scorpius glared daggers at Louis's back as he followed the boy through the corridors. He didn't know where Louis was leading them and he didn't particularly care. All he could think about was his own misfortune, and he now felt very much like hitting something.

Out of all the boys in Sixth-year, of course Scorpius had to be landed with  _Louis_.

He shook his head, still sour at his own bad luck. Why couldn't it at least have been  _Potter_? Potter was irritating, there was no denying it, but he was nowhere near as obnoxious and insufferable as Perfect Louis, who sashayed about the place as if he was better than everyone else; who believed his two years at Beauxbatons made him more qualified than even the teachers; who looked down his nose at everyone and everything; whose over-the-top French accent made Scorpius want to scratch his own eardrums out.

Scorpius felt himself turning red with frustration. He put his cold hands to his cheeks and took a deep, calming breath.

"In here," Louis announced as they reached a scratched wooden door just a few feet down from a large portrait of a bowl of fruit. It was indeed warm down here and the smell of food was overwhelming. Scorpius strongly suspected they were very close to the kitchens and thus out of bounds.

Louis pushed bodily against the door and it burst open. He stumbled, straightened his jumper, and gestured for Scorpius to join him.

Scorpius followed with a foul look on his face; he didn't bother to hide it. Louis closed the door behind them and waved his wand, lighting two sconces of candles which immediately illuminated their surroundings. They'd found themselves in an old storage room filled with old chairs, books, broken furniture, and unmarked boxes. It was dusty and smelled like mold, but as promised it was warm.

Primly, Scorpius sat down in a rickety chair and watched with open distaste as Louis arranged himself on the floor, crossing his legs and leaning his back against the wall.

"There's plenty of other chairs, you know," Scorpius snapped at him, looking down his nose at the boy.

Louis glanced up at him and shrugged, his expression unmoved. "I'd rather sit on the floor," he replied. "I'm fairly sure it won't break if I sit on it, see." As if on cue, Scorpius's chair gave an unhealthy creak and Louis flashed a slight smirk, patting the floor in front of him. "Come and sit down here, mon ami. There's plenty of room."

Scorpius did as suggested but made sure to throw the other boy a filthy look at the phrase 'mon ami.' He was by no means fluent, but he knew enough French to know he was certainly  _not_  Louis Weasley's friend.

When they were finally settled, Scorpius pulled out his parchment, held it out in front of him, and glanced over the list of questions. "How do you want to do this, then?" he asked, feeling utterly defeated. There was no escaping this. "Let's just get this over and done with, alright?"

Louis raked his eyes over his own parchment, seemingly unaware of Scorpius's abject dislike of him, and shrugged. "Let's do one question each, yes? I ask one, you ask one. Agreed?"

"Fine."

"Good. What's your name?"

Scorpius lowered his parchment to glare at the other boy in utter disbelief. "Pardon?"

Louis, looking as unruffled as if he'd just returned from an hour-long siesta, repeated, "What's your name? I know your face but I can't remember your name."

Scorpius, seething at the fact Louis Weasley had thought it apparently unimportant to ever learn Scorpius's name until now, ground out, "Scorpius. Scorpius Malfoy. What's yours?" He knew of course, but given the circumstances thought it prudent to pretend he didn't.

"Louis," Louis answered breezily, pronouncing his name Lou-ee. "Now do you want to start, or shall I?"

Scorpius stared at the other boy, lip curled in disgust, and replied, "You."

"Okay." Louis cleared his throat. "Where were you born?"

Scorpius, feeling suddenly defensive, folded his arms over his chest and answered, "Wiltshire. You?"

"Paris," Louis said without looking up. Again, he pronounced the word in French: Pa-ree.

God, he was so  _pretentious_ , Scorpius thought darkly, fingernails biting into the palm of his hand. "What's your favorite color?" he read out in a monotone. He was keeping a lid on his irritation by only the narrowest of margins.

"Red," Louis answered.

Scorpius arched a brow. "Me too. Red."

"Red is beautiful," Louis added needlessly, a small smile tugging at his lips. He kept his eyes fixed on Scorpius as he let his head fall back against the brick. "Roses, blood, wine, raspberries, kissed lips... The best things in life are red."

The room was too small for the two of them, Scorpius suddenly decided. "Yes, I suppose so," he replied, and loudly cleared his throat. "Anyway." He looked down at his list of questions. "Do you have any brothers or sisters?"

"Two older sisters," Louis said quietly. "Victoire and Dominique. I am the youngest and the only boy."

 _Worst case of Spoiled Youngest Child Syndrome I've ever seen_ , Scorpius thought to himself with an inward smirk. It figured. Louis was probably well-accustomed to his mother and father fawning all over him and telling him he was the most wonderful being in the entire universe. That was probably how his head managed to get so inflated in the first place. He was nauseatingly beautiful, it was true, but everyone knew that was the Veela blood in him. He didn't have to walk around with that infuriatingly smarmy look on his face all the time, as if he was perfectly aware he was stunning. Scorpius hated it.

"Well, I'm an only child," he matched with a sniff. "No brothers and sisters. Next."

Louis looked at him oddly, eyes slightly narrowed. "It must get lonely, being by yourself all the time."

Scorpius threw the boy a withering look. "If we could stick to the questions, please."

Louis didn't say anything, only stared.

"Oh for goodness' sake, sometimes, yes!" Scorpius burst out, just to break the silence. "Of course it gets lonely being an only child," he snapped. "In a house the size of mine the silence is deafening. Next question." He felt the heat rise in his face and subsequently wished he'd said nothing at all.

The questions flowed much quicker from this point forward.

"How old is your father?"

"Forty-one."

"Forty-nine."

"Where did you go on your first holiday?"

"Maldives. And you?"

"I can't remember."

"What do you want to be when you leave school?"

"I don't know."

"I don't know either."

"What's your middle name?"

"I don't have one," Scorpius lied, feeling the tips of his ears go red. First lie of the night, he thought to himself. "Yours?"

"Auguste," Louis answered, without a trace of embarrassment.

"What are you best at?" Scorpius continued.

"Lying," Louis replied, very quietly. "To everyone. About everything. All the time."

"Right," Scorpius said quickly, trying to conceal how this had caught him off-guard. "Well as for me, I'm good at most things but best at nothing. Sometimes I think that's worse than being awful at something, I know my father certainly thinks so, but I suppose I wouldn't know..." Aware he was prattling on nervously now, he stopped talking. "Next?"

Louis stared at the parchment in his hand, looking slightly troubled. "What's the worst thing you've ever done?"

"That's not on the list," Scorpius pointed out.

Louis squinted down at his bit of parchment and said, "It says on the bottom here that we can each ask one another five questions of our own choosing." He looked up at Scorpius. "And so I'm asking you: What's the worst thing you've ever done?"

Scorpius took a deep breath and looked down at his knees, scratching the side of his face. He searched for something to say. He wasn't particularly keen on spilling his deepest and darkest secrets to Louis Weasley of all people, but the quicker he said something, the quicker they could finish up here.

He sighed. "I don't know... When I was twelve I read my cousin's diary."

"That's not so bad."

"Out loud," Scorpius clarified. "In front of her and a room full of people. The thing had all of her silly little secrets in it—how she hated her parents, how she wanted to be a unicorn when she grew up, how she was in  _love_  with me. She was humiliated. Still hasn't forgiven me for it."

"Why did you do it?" Louis asked softly. His eyes glinted in the flickering light, considering Scorpius carefully.

"I don't know," Scorpius replied, picking at a loose thread on his trousers. "I thought it was funny. I was bored. Anyway," he sniffed, "what about you? What's the worst thing  _you've_  ever done, Weasley? Accidentally used the wrong hair potion?"

Pointedly ignoring this little jibe, Louis fingered his collar, running his fingertips along the inside of the material. Scorpius watched him curiously.

"What are you doing?"

Louis undid the first few buttons of his shirt and loosened his blue and bronze scarf, pulling his collar down a few inches. There on his neck, marring the perfect, smooth skin, was a jagged silver scar.

"What is that?" Scorpius asked, immediately confused.

"The worst thing I've ever done," Louis replied, quietly. He re-buttoned his shirt and refastened his tie at his throat. "I was bored too," he further explained to a stunned and mute Scorpius. "I wanted to know what it felt like to die. I had no reason. None that mattered, anyway."

"Why are you telling me this?" Scorpius snapped at him, suddenly irritated. He'd just learned something about Louis Weasley he'd never wanted to know. "You do know this is just a stupid game, don't you? You're allowed to lie."

Louis didn't answer this. "It's your turn," he said softly.

Scorpius shook his head at him and snatched up his parchment, scanning down the list. He was so flustered the words became a blur.

He let out a sigh and pinched the bridge of his nose. "Fine," he said, resolving to make a question up. "What's your favorite memory?"  _Maybe this will lighten the stuffing mood_ , he thought to himself.

A glazed look came over Louis. He smiled, his head falling back against the bricks again. "My Mémé," he reminisced, "before she died. She took me into her lap, kissed me, and said, " _'Mon précieux Louis, n'oubliez pas de toujours garder votre cœur sous clé_.' She understood me," he finished, the smile fading from his lips like a dimming candle. "I still miss her." He looked up at Scorpius. "And what is yours?"

Scorpius's mind drew a blank. "I don't know," he said after a while. "I suppose I can't choose one." He was a sadder case even than Crazy Louis, he realized. He couldn't single out even one prized memory and wasn't quite sure what that said about him and his life.

"Your name," Louis said after a silence. "Malfoy—it is French, is it not?"

"Yes."

"I knew this of course," Louis laughed, with an airy gesture of his hand. "The two of us, we must be distant cousins."

"How did you arrive at that conclusion?" Scorpius asked, feigning disinterest. It was a likely scenario given they were both purebloods, but the thought of being related to any variety of Weasley was immensely distasteful to him.

Sitting forward, Louis reached out to touch the silvery ends of Scorpius's hair. "We are so alike, you and I," he whispered, tucking a lock of hair behind Scorpius's ear and lingeringly touching his cheek. Scorpius slapped his hand away.

"Don't touch me." He was hyper-aware of his body's reaction to being touched—his breath came now in sharp little bursts and he was certain his face was on fire.

Louis was mad. They didn't look anything alike. Their hair was a similar shade, Louis's being slightly ashier, but other than that Scorpius could see no further similarities in the cast of their features. Louis was classically beautiful, with perfectly-shaped lips, large blue eyes and a lightly-tanned complexion. Scorpius was pale and slightly sickly looking, with grey eyes too large for his face and hair so pale it was off-putting.

Louis retracted his hand but went on, laughing, "It's true. I see you around the school and I think to myself, 'He is a beautiful boy. He must be related to me.'"

Scorpius threw him a disgusted look. "Ugh, you're so full of it, Weasley. We don't look anything alike, and I think perhaps you need your eyes tested because last I checked I wasn't a beautiful boy." He lifted his wrist to check his watch. "I think we're done here. Come on, let's get back to the hall. It's sweltering in here."

"It hasn't been an hour yet," Louis pointed out, glancing down at his own watch. "It's your turn to ask me something." He gave Scorpius his best puppy-dog look, seemingly unaware that Scorpius was impervious. "And I won't say anything else to upset you, I promise you. Please stay?"

Scorpius narrowed his eyes but picked up his piece of parchment again, scanning down the list. "Fine," he said, with false pleasantness. "What's one lie you've told today? And remember, I said just one. Difficult, I know; I'm sure there's been thousands."

Ignoring this, Louis slid closer to where Scorpius was sitting. Instantly suspicious, Scorpius wrinkled his nose and leaned away.

"When I told you I didn't know your name," Louis began, eyes fixed on Scorpius's neck, "I was lying." He licked his lips and his eyes flickered up to Scorpius's face. "I knew your name. Of course I knew your name."

They were sitting very closely now. Scorpius, breathing hard, swallowed and said, "Why did you say you didn't?"

"I know you don't like me," Louis began, his hand creeping slowly toward Scorpius's leg, "but I  _do_  like you. And I find it amusing watching you get so indignant at the very idea someone, particularly me, could ever disregard you. You're so proud."

Scorpius stared down at Louis's hand, which now rested upon his thigh. "I suppose you also find it amusing watching people fall all over themselves every time you bat your pretty eyelashes at them," he said coldly. He looked up at Louis's face. "What's the matter?" he asked. "Am I disappointing you?"

"Not even close," Louis replied. His face was serious now.

"I suppose the old Veela charm doesn't work on everybody, does it?" Scorpius finished with a sneer. "You'll just have to go and find some other poor sod to play with, since it clearly doesn't work on me." He peeled Louis's hand off of his leg. "How very unfortunate for you."

"I never wanted it to work on you." With that same serious look, Louis raised himself up on his knees and gripped Scorpius's tie, stroking it with both hands before letting it fall back to his jumper. "I don't care what you think," he added. "I'm not trying to charm you. If I was, it would work. Believe me."

"It must be difficult having low self-confidence," Scorpius mused aloud.

"It is, actually." For the first time, Louis looked genuinely frustrated. "All I'm getting from you is mixed signals and I can't decide whether or not you'll have me. I don't usually have this problem." Frowning, he snatched the list of questions out of Scorpius's hand and tossed it aside.

"Hey!" Scorpius exclaimed. "We need to finish those; our time's nearly up! And I'm not giving you mixed signals, you dolt. I'm not giving you any signals at all.  _I don't like you_. There, that's your signal."

But then again, perhaps he  _was_  giving mixed signals. His brain was telling him to get up and run away from Crazy Louis as fast as he could, though his body refused to let him budge an inch. He wasn't exactly sure what it was he was waiting for.

"A kiss," Louis said, as if he'd read Scorpius's mind. "Just one."

"What?"

Without another word Louis lunged forward and, practically straddling Scorpius's lap, took Scorpius's face in his hands and violently pressed their lips together. The kiss was unlike any other Scorpius had experienced—it was not soft, considerate or gentle, but rather hard, wet and forceful.

Louis traced Scorpius jaw with his fingertips and gently stroked his tongue with his own, causing him to become temporarily mindless with lust. For that moment in time Louis  _had_  him, wholly and completely, and Scorpius gave up pretending he didn't want this; that he wasn't attracted to Louis. He  _was_ , desperately and pathetically—Louis was beautiful and here and all over him, and it didn't matter if Louis was using him because he found Scorpius amusing, or even whether Scorpius found him insufferable. None of it mattered. Louis meant nothing to him and Scorpius didn't care what he thought. He never had to be alone with Louis again unless he wanted to, and considering their past history—which was virtually nonexistent—that wasn't a very likely scenario. They could fool around now—do whatever they wanted to do—and there would be few consequences. It was perfect.

Louis bit down on Scorpius's lip—so hard it stung and that Scorpius tasted blood—and slowly drew away. Eyes fixed on Scorpius's mouth, he rubbed his thumb over Scorpius's lip, deftly unbuttoning Scorpius's shirt with his free hand, and murmured, "See? Red looks so pretty on you."

Scorpius hooked his fingers through the belt-loops of Louis's trousers and dragged him forward. Staring up into the other boys eyes, he asked, "Is this a trick?" He was not remiss in being direct about his suspicions. Louis was strange and wildly unpredictable—he had proved as much over the last half-hour—and Scorpius didn't trust him at all. If someone had put him up to this, if he was planning something sinister, Scorpius wanted to know about it.

Louis splayed his fingers out over Scorpius's chest. "No," he answered, huskily. "And I thought trickery was more a Slytherin trait." He angled his head to kiss Scorpius's mouth again, slowly this time and with more finesse. He tasted sweet, like blackcurrant tea and cinnamon.

Scorpius, heady with desire, resolved to make his intentions known. Snogging was all well and good, but ultimately it could be done with anybody. He wanted more than that from Louis, and had never been one to needlessly waste his own time. Besides, the sooner they both got what they wanted from this, the sooner they could walk away and pretend it had never happened.

With this in mind Scorpius unhooked Louis's trousers, pushed a hand inside his pants, and firmly grasped the other boy's cock, eliciting a low hiss.

It was the first cock he'd ever touched apart from his own. It felt both foreign and familiar in his hand, hard and heavy, velvety and warm. He tugged at it recklessly as they kissed, teeth knocking together and tongues battling furiously, as Louis pushed him back onto the floor, pinning him beneath his weight. He tangled his hands in Scorpius's hair, grabbing a fistful, and rather roughly yanked his head back, exposing his throat. He attacked Scorpius's neck with his lips and teeth and tongue, murmuring rapidly in French as his hands slid down Scorpius's naked chest to the buttons on his trousers. Obligingly, Scorpius lifted his hips as Louis tugged his pants and trousers down over his hips.

Scorpius was well aware he looked ridiculous like this—pants halfway down his thighs, the most private parts of his body on display for Louis Weasley—but he didn't care. All that mattered was the present; he could deal with the excessive embarrassment later.

Fixing him with an enigmatic stare, Louis slid the rest of the way down Scorpius's body, pausing every so often to place a kiss upon his naked chest. Scorpius, mildly disgruntled at having his privates examined by someone he barely knew let alone liked, drew his hand—the very one that had just slipped out of Louis's pants—back to himself and wiped it on the tail of his shirt.

Louis uttered something Scorpius couldn't quite hear and, firmly gripping Scorpius's thigh, took Scorpius's cock inside his mouth without preamble.

Scorpius barely contained a scream. Selfishly, he had hoped this little indiscretion might lead them here, but he hadn't thought Weasley would ever have the guts to actually go through with something like this—Scorpius knew there was no way in hell that  _he_  would ever do what Louis was doing.

He opened one eye and watched, utterly transfixed, unraveling under Louis's ministrations, as the other boy sucked him off—expertly, his beautiful lips wrapped tightly around Scorpius's cock, as if he'd done this many times before. Scorpius didn't care if he had, so long as the result was  _him_  getting to feel like  _this_.

He buried his fingers in Louis's hair and tightened them, struggling to hold off his orgasm. After all, he wanted to savor this as long as he could—it was no everyday occurrence, and he very much doubted people were lining up outside for a chance to suck him off.

No. Tonight he was just lucky.

"Slower," he ordered, gripping Louis's hair so tightly it was surely painful.

Louis, it seemed, was very good at taking instructions. He immediately acquiesced to Scorpius's demands, releasing some of the pressure around his cock, and alternated now between licking and sucking. Watching him was good enough, but when Scorpius could no longer stand the intense pleasure, he pulled Louis's hair and ground out, "Enough. Stop."

Louis ignored this warning and slid his hand up Scorpius's torso, until it rested just below his throat. He held Scorpius there firmly and sucked with renewed vigor. Scorpius was beginning to think the boy simply liked having his hair pulled.

Unable to restrain himself any longer, Scorpius tightened his trembling fingers, biting down hard on his lip, and threw his head back as the pleasure wracked him in waves.

When it was over, Scorpius did the decent thing and wanked Louis off, though his heart wasn't really in it. He even allowed Louis to kiss him, which ended up being awfully uncomfortable considering where the boy's mouth had been and what he'd just swallowed.

Afterwards, when they were both sticky and sated, their lips red and swollen from kissing, Louis wouldn't stop staring at Scorpius, an awful, self-satisfied smirk on his face. "You were perfect, beau garçon."

Scorpius threw the other boy a nasty look as he fastened his belt. "I don't remember asking you for an assessment of my performance, but thanks. I'm glad you enjoyed yourself."

"Did you?"

Scorpius shrugged one shoulder. "You're very, um, good at… Well, you know." That was as close to a compliment as the other boy was going to get.

"I know," Louis said, simply. Scorpius rolled his eyes at him. He might have guessed Perfect Louis would say something so obnoxious.

"Look," Scorpius began impatiently, searching the floor of the small room for his list of questions, "you can stay here if you like, but I've got to get going. Time's up."

Louis fastened his tie at his throat and said, "You never did answer that question, you know."

"And which question was that?"

"The one you asked me. What's one lie you've told today?"

Scorpius found what he was looking for and stood up, dusting himself off, buttoning his shirt at his throat and refastening his tie. He was careful to smooth out his clothes and neatly arrange his hair. No one could ever know what he'd been up to down here. _No one_. And it most certainly could not happen again, under any circumstances.

With this in mind, Scorpius took a deep breath and looked down at Louis, who was watching him now with an irritating sort of look, as if he was genuinely fond of Scorpius and not just someone who'd seen an opportunity and taken it.

"When I told you that reading my cousin's diary was the worst thing I've ever done, I was lying."

"Oh," said Louis, smiling as he fixed the buttons on his sleeves. "So what  _is_  the worst thing you've ever done?"

"This," Scorpius replied, stony-faced. "Here. What I just did with you.  _That_  was the worst thing I've ever done."

For once, Louis looked caught off-guard, as if Scorpius had finally managed to say something to shock him. His face fell.

Scorpius glanced over him once more, drawled, "Don't mention this to anyone if you know what's good for you," and swiftly departed the room.

He felt lighter than before, and totally unfettered by regret. He'd got what he wanted. So had Louis. A clean break was always best when it came to these things, and besides—Slytherin hadn't a hope in hell of winning this thing, anyway.

_~Finis~_


End file.
